


a collection of thoughts from the fucked over cast of teen wolf

by flyingthesky



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Audio Format: M4B, Audio Format: MP3, Audio Format: Streaming, Collaboration, Community: pod_together, Gen, Podfic & Podficced Works
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-26
Updated: 2013-08-26
Packaged: 2017-12-22 15:11:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/914711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyingthesky/pseuds/flyingthesky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>fic by flyingthesky, podfic by quintenttsy.</p>
    </blockquote>





	a collection of thoughts from the fucked over cast of teen wolf

**Author's Note:**

> fic by flyingthesky, podfic by quintenttsy.

  
  


[MP3](http://pod-together.parakaproductions.com/2013/a%20collection%20of%20thoughts%20from%20the%20fucked%20over%20cast%20of%20teen%20wolf-quintenttsy,%20flyingthesky.mp3) / [M4B](http://pod-together.parakaproductions.com/2013/a%20collection%20of%20thoughts%20from%20the%20fucked%20over%20cast%20of%20teen%20wolf-quintenttsy,%20flyingthesky.m4b)  


**1\. Scott McCall**  
The bite is not a gift.

Do you know how it feels to be a tertiary character in your own life? Maybe you do and maybe you don't, but that's the way the bite has made me feel. It's like . . . even though _I'm_ the werewolf, it seems like _Stiles_ is the only person who ever gets to complain about it.

He has to do all the research and come up with the plans, _he_ has to save me from myself, _he_ has to figure out what the hell is going on before I have a chance to say "full moon."

Don't get me wrong, I love Stiles more than anyone but my mom or Allison. The guy is like my brother, and if I had to go through this with anyone, then I would always pick him. It's just that sometimes . . . Sometimes I want to scream at how unfair it is that Stiles gets to act like he understands what this is, how I feel.

Maybe he's always been like this and I've just never noticed, or maybe it's only gotten worse with the bite.

I don't know.

All I know is that I'm tired of feeling like my life is happening to me and I'm not living it. I want to control my destiny. I want to feel like my life is my own—that I'm not answering to Derek or Peter or _anyone_. I just . . . I want to be normal again. I want to be a regular teenager without any supernatural problems who can date the love of his life because she's not the daughter of someone who wants him dead.

I'm tired of running from hunters and dealing with other werewolves. I'm tired of shifting into a nightmare every full moon. I'm tired of people getting hurt because they get caught up in our fight. I'm tired of being unable to control anything about my life—anything at all. Most of all, though, I'm just tired.

Looking out for danger constantly is exhausting. I would know, I've spent so much of my life living in fear and I thought that part of my life was over. I thought the fear left with him and I was just beginning to learn how to live without looking over my shoulder for shadows that aren't there. Now, though?

Shadows are all I see.

**2\. Rebecca "Harley" Harlowe**  
I miss Scott and Stiles—we grew up together, y'know.

Scott and Stiles have been best friends for as long as anyone can remember, but I was there too. That's the part they always manage to leave out: me.

I don't know exactly when it started happening, but lately it seems like Scott and Stiles can't even remember my name. They have new friends now—the lacrosse team and Lydia Martin among them—so they left me behind like a broken and unwanted toy.

No, that's not really it.

We were misfit toys that bonded over mutual social ineptitude. Stiles was annoying and talked too much, Scott was poor and everyone knew about his father. As for me . . . well, let's just say that girls who like other girls don't tend to climb very high on the social ladder. 

Danny's got muscle and charisma, that's why nobody judges him for his sexual orientation. The awkward, nerdy girl who ain't really that pretty? No such luck.

Stiles and I bonded over mutually unrealistic crushes on Lydia Martin—although at the time I kind of thought I wanted to _be_ Lydia and not date her. Scott came as part of the package, because wherever Stiles is, Scott is. I don't know how true that is now, because they don't seem to be getting along as well as they used to. I don't think it's just me they've forgotten about, honestly.

It's possible that Scott and Stiles think they're protecting me from the werewolves—yes, I know about the werewolves and I'm pretty sure the whole town knows at this point—but I don't understand why Stiles gets to be caught up in it and I'm spared.

I would say it's because I'm a girl, but Scott and Stiles both know that I'm pretty good in a fight. Better than Stiles, anyway. I've kicked his ass more times than I can count and helped him research something at least twice as much as I've kicked his ass so I feel like there's a pretty compelling reason to keep me around as a resource.

Honestly, it sounds like they can use all the help they can get if they're resorting to hanging out with Derek Hale. I mean, I'm not friendly with the guy, but if looks could kill? Derek Hale would be a stone cold killer.

Maybe it's better this way, though. At least I'm still alive.

**3\. Danny Mahealani**  
I am nobody's gay Yoda. I am nobody's gay Yoda.

Maybe if I repeat it enough times, it'll become true. I say it because I don't want to be reduced to a caricature of being, some girl's latest accessory—a pale imitation of a human being who is only around to dispense fashion advice. I don't even like fashion.

I like comic books and computers and lacrosse, things that boys are "supposed" to like—Lydia would kill me if I didn't acknowledge the gender essentialism of this statement—but somehow being gay gives you magical superpowers that include knowing fashion and being into musical theatre. I didn't fundamentally change the moment I decided to suck cock, but somehow that's what everyone assumes.

Stiles is always asking me if he's attractive to "gay guys," as if "gay guys" all belong to some hivemind that files them down until they're all one and the same. I don't fucking know if Stiles is attractive to gay guys, because I don't speak for every gay that's ever existed. He's attractive if you're into nerdy, spastic guys, I guess, but all of my exes probably wouldn't date him because they're more into guys like me.

Taste is an individual thing. Jackson isn't my type, but he's other people's type. The laws of the universe don't change with sexual orientation, and queerness is a unique experience for every person. This shouldn't be that hard for people to understand, but apparently it is.

Everyone is reduced and simplified into a simple stereotype that can be indiscriminately applied to whoever it even remotely fits. Your sexuality defines you, and who you choose to share your bed with is _everyone's_ business. If you don't answer their invasive and demanding questions, well. Let's just say that straight folk feel like they're entitled to use you as some kind of learning tool.

Screw you. I am nobody's teaching tool.

Who I chose to share my bed with isn't anybody's business, and I don't have to answer questions about my sex life. The internet exists for a reason and it's not that hard to search these things for yourself like I had to when I was still afraid of liking boys.

I am not something to be put in a glass cage, to be gawked at and fawned over. I am a human being, and I wish people would realize that once in a while.

**4\. Lydia Martin**  
I don't feel safe in my own head.

I don't feel safe anywhere at all, really, but I used to before I turned up naked in the woods. I used to feel like whatever weirdness Scott and Stiles were caught up in was separate from me, was something that wouldn't touch me, but it's not. It's touched everyone now.

Peter took away my sense of safety, took away my peace of mind, and I've been pretending that I'm okay, but I'm not. Some part of me is afraid when people touch me, afraid of the shadows that lurk on the edges of my vision. People keep telling me that it'll get better, that I'll stop feeling this way, but I haven't. I still feel like Peter is inside of my head, like he's just waiting to take control of me again.

Sometimes I want to scratch all my skin off, peel away everything that's been tainted and start again, but I know that I can't. I know that I have to live with this and no matter what anyone says, I might always feel like this. I know that I probably won't ever feel safe. 

I don't think I can anymore, because it's not just Peter.

Recently, I've been turning up in weird places with no idea how I got there. I know it's not Peter, even if no one else does, but some part of me is deathly afraid that I'm wrong, that Peter is using me to kill these people that have been turning up dead. Or worse: someone new has taken control of me and I don't even know who. I've tried to keep at least a little distance from everything that's been going on, but I don't think I can anymore. Something in me is telling me that I'm involved, and I don't know if I am but I'm scared. I'm scared and I can't talk to anyone about this.

What would I even say? I don't think it's Peter, but I'm worried that I might be dangerous? I'm worried that you were wrong and I actually am a kanima? I'm worried that I'm going _crazy_?

No.

This isn't something that I can talk to people about. I just have to put on a brave face and pretend like nothing at all is wrong. It's worked so far, and I don't think it'll stop working now.

**5\. Vernon Milton Boyd IV**  
Derek promised me friends, promised me a sense of belonging, and I guess I shouldn't be surprised that he lied.

It still hurts, though. I don't have anything now that Alicia's gone and I was hoping that Derek would give me something, anything. Instead, he gave me a pack made of broken promises. For one fleeting moment, I had Erica and Issac, but . . . Everyone leaves, I don't know why I'm surprised.

I tried to take Erica away, tried to give her something better, but look how that turned out. I'd say that everything I touch is cursed, but I don't think it's that. I think it's that everything _Derek_ touches is cursed. Alicia was my fault, and I take responsibility for that, but everything bad that's happened to me since then has been Derek's fault. I decided to join his pack, and my life turned into a hell. Derek . . . He's not meant to be an Alpha. He doesn't know how to keep a pack, doesn't understand how to keep people together. 

Once, I said I wanted to be like Scott. I don't think that's exactly true, what I wanted was for people like Scott to like me. To notice me. I guess that's not going to happen now, but I like to think that Scott thought of me sometimes. He cares so much for everyone, and I guess . . . I guess I'm just mad that he picked Issac.

Maybe I'm mad at Issac for being the only one of us to survive.

The three of us were okay for a while, and I felt like maybe Derek had delivered on his promise. I felt like that as long as Erica and Issac were beside me, I could do anything. But then Derek started splintering us apart, started driving wedges between us, and I tried to salvage what I could. I told myself that I would do better this time, that I would keep Erica safe like I didn't keep Alicia safe, and I failed.

I couldn't save Alicia and I couldn't save Erica, but I helped Cora. At least I did one good thing before Derek's curse caught up with me too.

I don't know how long Cora will be safe for, but I hope she remembers me. I hope she's untouched by the tragedy that seems to follow in Derek's wake.

**6\. Erica Reyes**  
You know, I just wanted to be powerful.

When Derek came to me, I knew he wasn't coming to me because I would make a good werewolf. He came to me because he knew that I'd say yes—that as long as he promised the one thing I wanted, I couldn't say no. Derek gave me the bite, and for a while it was everything he promised. For a while, I was happy.

Stiles noticed me. He'd never even looked at me twice before, but he saw me.

It seemed like Derek had made good on his promise, but then . . . I don't really know what changed, I just know that Boyd and I realized that we couldn't stay so we left and that might have been even worse than staying. Derek wasn't the best alpha ever, but at least he didn't kill me. At least he cared about me even a little bit.

I wonder if Issac thinks about me.

The last time I saw him, he was as bad off as we were but I'm pretty sure he'll be okay. Issac's kind of like a cockroach or something. You can't really get rid of him—if you try and squash him, he'll just spring back up. I think Issac's experiences mean that he perseveres more than Boyd and I, and if any of us survive it'll be him. I hope he's doing fine, because I'd hate to think that one of my only friends was dead. 

Maybe that's the thing about being a werewolf: everyone you know could die before you can even blink. You have to on your guard all the time, or somebody's gonna end up dead. It could be hunters or it could be some other supernatural creature, but every result is the same: more bodies to mourn. I guess power comes with a price, and that price is peace of mind.

It's been a long time since I knew what that was, because I've always had to worry about my epilepsy. Now, instead of being paranoid someone will tape me having a seizure and put it on the internet, I worry about ending up dead. I worry about my friends being safe. I worry about what's going to happen when the full moon rolls around. 

I worry about a lot of things, but I guess I didn't worry about any of it hard enough.

**7\. Allison Argent**  
My mother is dead. My aunt is dead. Everything I thought I knew has been turned upsidedown and shattered completely.

I feel like a freak on display for everyone to see, a creature surrounded by glass who can see everything but is closed off from the rest of the world. The people I used to call my friends seem to keep their distance. They pretend like nothing has changed, but I know better.

They see me differently and I feel like I have to prove myself even though I shouldn't have to prove anything.

I did some terrible things, yes, but everyone caught up in this mess has done terrible things. We do what we have to do, and sometimes that means doing things that other people don't agree with. If everyone else gets a free pass to do things that they think are right in the moment, then why don't I? _I wasn't even allowed to mourn._

My family trained me to be a soldier in a war, and the war is still raging on all around me. I don't know where my alliances lie anymore, because I don't know who isn't going to stab me in the back. The only person I can trust is my father, and I'm not even sure how much I trust him anymore.

I . . . I just want everything to go back to the way it was. I want to be able to kiss Scott, lay out on the roof and look at the stars. I want my biggest concern in life to be whether I'm going to pass my chemistry test and not whether I'll even be alive to take it. I want to go back to before the werewolves and finish growing up slowly instead of immediately.

There are so many things I want, so many things I'm never going to get now because my life is different. Every day is a watching my back and make sure that no one is behind me. Make sure that I'll live to see another day.

This is hard on all of us, and none of us were prepared. We're learning as we go and making mistakes where we can't afford them, which ends in all of us barely trusting each other. I don't even remember what it feels like to trust someone completely. I don't even know if I can anymore.


End file.
